Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(108)
Where’s Romeo?
“What…?” I tried to clear my dry throat. “W-where am I?”
“Shh… drink first.” A blue beaker with a long straw met my lips. I took the offered drink and after a huge gulp of water, the liquid moistening my dry throat, I tried next to clear the thick fog from my mind.
No!
Stiffening, my hand flew to my stomach and I winced in pain. I felt like I’d been sawed wide open. Fear hit me in the chest. Not again… This can not be happening again…
The nurse’s knowing blue eyes met mine, and rubbing a hand on my arm, she said, “We had to give you an emergency caesarean, due to your preeclampsia. The baby was in distress and your blood pressure was getting to a dangerous level.”
Flashes of memory came back to me. Me on bed rest for the last three months, then hazy, scattered recounts of Romeo carrying me into the hospital in his arms, frantic, terrified, desperate even, and Ally… Ally drove us here to the hospital? That’s right. Ally was staying with us here in Seattle. She’d secured a co-curating commission at the Burke Museum on The University of Washington’s campus not too long ago and was in our spare room until she left again for her regular position at the Smithsonian in Washington D.C.
I forced my groggy mind to refocus… The baby… Our baby!
I opened my mouth, about to speak in guttering panic, when the nurse smiled down at me. “It was a successful delivery, Molly. Your baby is fine, absolutely beautiful.” She lowered down farther to whisper, “And eager to meet Mommy.”
A feeling of nervous excitement burst in my chest, but a hint of fear was evident too. My emotions were off the chart, and the nurse squeezed my hand in support.
My God… I was a mammy.
Reaching out, I gripped onto the nurse’s wrist as she began to walk away. “I want to see my baby, please. Wait!” I jerked slightly forward. “What did we have?” My eyes scoured around every inch of the room. “And where’s my husband? Where’s my baby?”
“They’re both just outside.” Her kind face broke into a huge smile. “Your husband is one pushy man, Mrs. Prince. He’s been relentless in his questions after your well-being while we brought you around from the procedure. We had no choice but to put you under general anesthesia. Things were getting too risky to give you an epidural. Your husband hasn’t let go of your little one since, refusing to move from the family room next door until you were conscious again. He’s causing quite a stir here in the hospital. The heartthrob Seahawks QB with a newborn cradled in his arms, pining for his wife… Whew! That man is reducing the nurses to teenagers out there, even in his blue scrubs!”
My heart melted. Knowing my Rome, he’d be scared to death. My miscarriage six years ago had almost killed him. I imagine holding our baby in his arms while he sat there all alone was scaring him shitless. He’d been so overprotective over the past few months, terrified of the risks of my condition.
It was too much like déjà vu.
“Please let him in. I need to see him… need to see them both,” I instructed hurriedly, my voice hoarse with emotion. The nurse nodded, understanding my anxiousness, and left the room. My palms grew clammy and my breathing came fast.
I was a mommy. It had actually happened… finally. It had been one hell of a bad pregnancy, and as I sat here in this strange bed, I felt robbed of the full birthing experience. But we had a child. Words couldn’t express the joy that came with that knowledge. I was more than lucky.
The door to the small room suddenly burst open and Romeo hurried in wearing blue scrubs, I assumed still left on from the OR, and I agreed with the nurses; he was a heartthrob, but then again, he was always beautiful to me.
My eyes immediately fixed on the tiny bundle in his arms, then back to my husband. His eyes were tired, his dirty-blond hair sticking out in clumps from where he’d been running his hand through, no doubt in stress, and his cheeks were red raw.
He’d been crying.
As soon as our eyes locked, relief flooded Rome’s face and he released a long, pained breath. “Molly!” he groaned and, glancing quickly at our baby in his arms, carefully walked towards me and gripped my outstretched hand, kissing the palm, the back, and each finger before placing it on his cheek, pressing it against his skin.
“God, Mol, I thought I’d lost you… Fuck, baby, I’ve been freaking the hell out…” His words were strained and I stroked along his stubble to relax him.
“I’m fine, babe. We’re all fine. It was just a C-section. We knew it was probable. They happen thousands of times a day. I was in safe hands.”
He nodded once, then, looking slightly “fish out of water,” glanced down at our baby wrapped in a yellow blanket, the colour no indication to their gender.
“Romeo…” I whispered in awe, seeing a tiny hand reaching north, my hand reaching out too in reaction, but my stomach tightened at the movement and I flinched and hissed at the sharp stab of pain.
Rome noticed, a worried expression set on his face, and he stood slowly, bending down to my level. “How about I bring our little princess to you?” And a huge proud smile lit up his face.
Princess… I exhaled slowly, closed my eyes, and smiled. We’d had a little girl. We had a daughter.
A happy whimper escaped my mouth and relieved hot tears began streaming down my cheeks. I’d managed to carry full term despite my health problems, and I was a mommy and my Rome was a daddy.